Loyalties
by Ai Tennshi
Summary: Really, it was funny how the people who knew her best always turned on her. Spoilers for The Boiling Rock.


_Author's Notes:_ This is one of two takes on The Boiling Rock that I wrote after seeing the episode. Very spoilery. Also, thanks to mystery writer5775 for feedback!

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing recognizable from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Loyalties**

It was all she could think about.

Not that anyone knew. As a princess, and the heir to the throne at that, she had better things to do—far more _important_ things to do than think about things that were done and over with. So she wore a mask. It was a cool mask, one of indifference, that looked as cold as its wearer's fire looked like ice.

There was no one who stood a chance at seeing through her mask. There had only ever been four people that could, and one other who sometimes managed, though more by accident than anything. But none of them were around. Two were traitors, ones who would doubtlessly argue that they had done what they had to for 'love' as though that justified it all, doomed to flee from their motherland for all that remained of their lifetimes. One was such a traitor that the word 'traitor' didn't even _begin_ to describe him: attacking his own father, joining forces with his country's greatest enemy, breaking out two of the most dangerous prisoners from his own country's prisons... The other two—oh, she had been so sure that they were different—were traitors as well. That was all she would say of them.

Really, it was funny how the people who knew her best always turned on her. How the people who should have _loved_ her the most always turned their backs on her like she was...worthless.

Her mother, her uncle, and her brother. _What_ a surprise. Her own mother had always thought she was a monster, and her uncle had shared that opinion. Her uncle, who, with all his experience and wisdom, would have made a wonderful war council, chose instead to follow her emotional, impulsive moron of a _brother_ into exile. As though _he_ were the one meant to have the crown; the one to deserve loyalty.

But that was okay. Because she had known, all along, that they weren't trustworthy. Her mother—always so righteous, so quick to reprimand her for hurting others, whether emotionally or physically; her uncle—so broken by the death of his son in war, and developing a special love of her brother, as though _he_ were his very own son; and her brother—dear, adorable, lost little Zuzu. Always so fixated on regaining his _honor_; so much that he never realized, even for a moment, how his 'honor' in the hands of his father was long gone, because his father had never seen him as anything but a failure anyway, or even how his uncle slowly but surely took the place of his father in his heart. He was nothing more than a little boy, impulsive and easy to manipulate, seeing the world in black and white and always determined to do what was _right_. She knew that type well, and had never held much hope for him.

But there were also the other two. Oh, she had never expected this from them! _Betraying_ her? After spending practically their entire _lives _as friends?

First there was Mai. Cold, indifferent Mai, always unmoving, precise, and ruthless. She had first ever seen the girl in the field beside their school. Even then, Mai had been cold and expressionless. When she tried proposing the usual 'go to a play together' or 'study group,' Mai had declined; when she had suggested a spar, Mai had wordlessly stood and followed her to the sparring grounds. Mai was generally bored with the world. Mai, who had only ever shown a romantic interest for her brother. So she, playing the nice best friend, had set them up, knowing—_knowing_—that given her brother's temperament, it would not end well. And indeed, the relationship had gone down the drain and the ice had cracked as Mai shed the first tears that anyone had ever seen. She had thought that this solidified her hold on Mai. After all, the one time that Mai had strayed from her two best friends to include someone else in her life, it had ended in heartbreak. But no: "I love Zuko more than I fear you," she had said. Love? _Fear?_ Was that what every thing boiled down to? Mai _loved_ the man—no, not even a man, but a _boy_—who had abandoned her for some misguided, confused sense of _righteousness_ and turned her loyalty to _him_? What about _her_? She had been Mai's friend for _years_—over a _decade_—and Mai had no reason to be loyal to her but _fear_?

Well, then. Why not? She _did_ exploit people's fear to get what she wanted all the time. Her two 'best friends' were no exception. Right. Okay. It was understandable. After all, a person as cold as Mai probably found emotions too overwhelming to defy. It was understandable. Not forgivable, but understandable.

But Ty Lee. Oh, she had never, _never_ expected a betrayal by Ty Lee. If she had ever come close to loving a person, that person would have been Ty Lee. Why not? Ever since they had befriended each other at school, Ty Lee had never failed to look delighted—and hence _be_ delighted, since Ty Lee didn't fake emotions—whenever she appeared. Ty Lee had taught her games when she had been determined to continue sparring; Ty Lee had never failed to leave a boyfriend or another friend behind to come to her when she called; Ty Lee had always been doing what needed to be done before she even got around to _saying_ what needed to be done; Ty Lee had been quick to notice when she was unhappy, and had been more than willing to help. No one else had ever tried to show her how to look pretty and girly ("You're the princess," people would say. "You don't need to look pretty." "But you're a fighter," others said. "What do you need make up for?"), how to make a boy like her ("Honestly, you're a princess! Boys come flocking to _you_, you don't need to _make_ them like you!"), or just how to have _fun_. Certainly, Ty Lee had a tendency to be a little emotional, and sometimes showed more attachment to her circus than her friends, but that was okay. Because everyone had their attachments, after all.

So she tried to kill—or at least _wound_—Mai for her betrayal, and Ty Lee intervened. Attacked her. _Attacked _her. Attacked _her_.

Of all the crazy, twisted, unexpected...

She should have had them killed. She honestly should have. She was still half-bemused that she hadn't.

But what would killing them do? They were the best fighters in the Fire Nation. And...they were her friends. She would never admit it, she hated to even _think _it, but she had developed some sort of..._attachment_ to the two girls that she had been with all her life.

Yet none of that explained why she donned a cloak at nights and sneaked into the prison, threatening a guard into silence (it was _not_ the same course of action as Zuko, and curse anyone who suggested it was, because Zuko was far more insecure in his loyalties than she was). She never entered the room in which they were locked; just stood there for up to an hour at a time, listening for conversation from within. She may have developed some strange sense of..._sentimentality_, but that didn't mean she was an idiot: her two 'friends' were properly divided with a solid wall. They could not see each other, but they could hear each other.

Why she had done this was...not really a mystery to her. She wanted to hear what they would talk about. But it wasn't much. Little things like, "Did you like your food today? The bread was a lot less stale than it was yesterday!" "Want to play truth or dare?" Other days there was silence.

Their optimism astounded her.

But they never mentioned her. Never mentioned her at all.

It wasn't long before she started to wonder if they were happier in their cells in prison than she was in her palace with full command of the army, so long as her father was informed of her plan first.

So she had them separated. She visited a few days later, certain that this time, she would find them drooping. Maybe if she kept them unhappy long enough, she could release them in exchange for their unquestioning loyalty.

Only, Mai was expressionlessly staring at the wall when she peered into the room through the small peephole in the door. And Ty Lee was giggling her head off as she did handstands and flips. So she had Ty Lee chained. Only Ty Lee continued to hum and giggle and draw pictures in the dust with her fingers and toes as well as she could with the restraints. She flirted with the guards, even when they were silent and did nothing but give her a glare.

It was then that Princess Azula realized that she had lost. One of her friends loved her brother; the other loved the first. There was nothing that was ever going to change that. She could have tried the rack, oil, or something as creative as it was painful, but that would only make them hate her more, and love each other more.

Azula couldn't say why she knew. But she did.

The next day, when Ty Lee and Mai were escorted out of their latest cells and to one that was separated into two with nothing more than metal bars, 'surprise' didn't even begin to describe how they felt. But Azula, watching quietly from the shadows, saw all she needed to see.

Ty Lee stopped chattering happily at the guards for a moment as her eyes narrowed and began to tear for a moment before she brushed away everything and gave a smile brighter than ever. Mai blinked, and a corner of her mouth twitched.

Azula turned and walked silently away.


End file.
